Breaking the Silence
by ChidoriQueen
Summary: Her mother had been beautiful once. Or at least that's what everyone told her. C2-centric AU one-shot. Rated T for mentions of sexual abuse.


Her mother had been beautiful once. Or at least that's what everyone told her.

But the young girl had a hard time believing it. Grassy hair choppy and uneven; it hung in her face like a stringy curtain. Her body was frail, arms and legs practically twigs, cheeks hollow and face gaunt.

But it was her eyes that terrified her the most. They were a gorgeous amber hue, but lacked any sort of humane glint. It gave the girl the feeling that if she looked into her mother's eyes for too long, she would fall into a dark pool of lifelessness and spiral into a bottomless pit

So the girl did her best to avoid her mother. But it wasn't like it was too much of a challenge or anything. She prostituted herself to the local men, singing to them in her tinny, hoarse voice and ignoring their drunk jeering and rough hands. By night, she was all prayers and tears, crouching on the stone floor, ashy knees raw with scrapes and brown blood, as she cupped a silver coin in her hands and begged for forgiveness.

The girl watched this scene every night, wondering what she had done to deserve this.

The gigantic, seemingly faceless men wandered into their house. She hid under her bed, clapping grimy hands over her ears and squeezing her eyes shut, praying to God. But no matter what nook or cranny she tucked herself into, clutching her spindly legs into her chest, she would never be able to escape.

A loud crash of a shattered dash. A piercing scream. A cold laugh that sent shivers down her spine.

One day, one of them found her. He opened up the closet and found her trembling inside, choking sobs wracking her scrawny frame. Her mouth was open in a silent scream. not a single tear seeping beneath her closed eyelids.

He was a fairly handsome, with broad shoulders, spiked chocolate brown hair, and a lopsided grin. His voice was as smooth as velvet, with a soft lilt to it. He invited her to sit in his lap, running his fingers through her tangled locks and whispering in that calming voice that she was beautiful.

And for a long time, she believed him.

Then he started to touch her. Slipping a smooth hand under her frayed blouse and groping the outline of her barely-developed breast, sneaking a hand in between her legs and lightly caressing the sensitive skin of her thighs. She fidgeted in his grasp and knew, somehow, that it was wrong, that she should run away and never return, but it felt so good to be loved that…it felt like that didn't even matter.

One morning, she realized that she didn't have a voice. Sentences and phrases and words perched tauntingly on the tip of her tongue. Protests, screams, thank-yous, hellos, good-byes...they would never soar. Sounds that would never pierce the air and be heard and understood and acknowledged.

She just couldn't stand it anymore. And when he was finally gone, his fondling and compliments merely an imprint in her mind, she ran into the sunshine.

She had forgotten how beautiful it was. The sun was casting light on the green leaves of the trees. The sky was a gorgeous blue, only a couple hazy clouds floating in the distance. A breeze tousled her hair, birdsong filling her ears.

The girl ran into the thicket next to her shack. She almost tripped over several tree roots, but she just didn't care, running and running. She felt like she was at the top of the world, like nothing could ever stop her and she wasn't limited by anything.

She stopped in the middle of a clearing. It was quiet. She closed her eyes.

The sun barely peeped through the thick rooftop created by the crisscrossing branches of trees. A stream snaked by, and she hesitantly dipped a blistered toe into the embrace of the water. She retreated immediately back, shocked by the sheer iciness of it all yet wanting to laugh because of how real it feels.

"Hello?"

She turned around, shocked to see a little boy about her age standing barely several feet away from her. His ebony hair was slightly disheveled, violet eyes round and captivating and filled with life.

So unlike her mother's.

The girl backed away. He approached her, oblivious to her fear. He smiled brightly, a dimple appearing on his cheek. "What's your name? I'm Lelouch! Lelouch Lamperouge."

Before she could run away, he grabbed her wrist. "Hey, where do you think you're going? I asked you a question, didn't I?"

The girl let out a strangled cough, spitting up a mouthful of blood. She doubled over. The boy's eyes widened in concern, and he bent down besides her. "Hey, are you alright?"

She scowled at him, wiping the blood off on her sleeve and hissing in a barely audible voice, "Get away from me." She tried to shove him off of her. She didn't care that she had somehow spoken again. All she wanted was for him to leave, to leave her alone in this beautiful sanctuary. To get his filthy hands off of her.

The last thing she wanted to feel was the touch of a man.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you," Lelouch insisted, tentatively letting go of her. "I just want to know who you are and where you're from. It looked like you needed help." He smiled at her patiently. "So what's your name?"

"I..." She faltered. "I don't have one."

He frowned. "That's strange. No name? I'd better think of one then..." He pondered this deeply, before his face lit up and he snapped his fingers. "How do you like Elizabeth?"

She struggled to sound the name out. "E...li...za...beth?" The sounds rolled around her foreign mouth like marbles.

"Yes. Do you like it?" He leaned forward. When she nodded slowly, he beamed. She gave him a confused look. Why was he so...happy?

"So, Elizabeth. Want to meet my mother? She would be happy to have you. My father is a doctor, so we could have you looked at quickly. They've always wanted another daughter, but they're too old to have more kids, so...we could take you in!" he offered, eyes shining. "How would you like that, Elizabeth?"

The newly-named girl thought about this. A new home? New parents? People who wouldn't touch her in places she didn't want to be touched? A chance to run away from those pools of darkness?

She nodded. He beamed, taking her hand into his and gesturing towards the path in front of him.

As he led her through the path, his hand never letting go of hers, she took a moment to glance back. The shack, her prison was already concealed by the trees, never to be seen again. The seemingly endless days of suffering and pain and torture would be washed away by the gentle hand of time and happy memories.

It was the beginning of a new life. The first step in breaking the silence.


End file.
